


A Different Kind Of Reward

by tillyenna



Series: NYR Punishment verse [8]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Spanking, Total Power Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: Set March 10th 2020, Igor's first game back after his injury, and he stops 31 shots, so Henke decides he deserves a reward... only it's not the same kind of reward that the other boys might get, in fact, they probably see it as punishment.This is just porn + spanking on a plane. The end.
Relationships: Henrik Lundqvist/Igor Shesterkin
Series: NYR Punishment verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654312
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	A Different Kind Of Reward

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH, I actually wrote this MONTHS ago, and forgot that I hadn't given it to y'all. My bad. Have a fic.

They’re straight on the plane again after the game, which on one hand, is exhausting, but on the other hand, means Igor doesn’t have to worry about sneaking out of his room to get to Henke’s. Instead, he slides into the seat next to Henke’s, headbutting him softly in the shoulder.

“I know Princess,” Henrik grins at him, ruffling his hair, “You got me a win.”

“You say gift,” it’s not the word Henrik had used, but Igor can’t remember what the word was supposed to have been.

“You do get a reward Princess,” Henrik smiled, he taps Igor lightly under the chin, “You want it here, on the plane? In front of everyone?”

Igor feels his face start to flush, because yes he wants it, more than anything, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to want it. He squirms slightly and can’t bring himself to look Henrik in the eye.

It’s almost like Henrik can tell what he’s thinking because the older man has a soft hand on his cheek, “I wouldn’t offer it if it weren’t allowed Princess.” 

“Yes,” Igor says softly, “Yes please.” When he finally looks up at Henrik, the older man is looking down at him with fond eyes. 

“I’m not sure I want to give you all thirty-one myself.” Henrik strokes his hair out of his face, “I’m going to delegate some of them.”

Igor can feel his face heating even more, the idea that Henrik is happy to let his teammates dole out his reward as well makes him a heady mix of terrified and turned on, he’s no idea who his master will choose, and that just makes it more intense.

It’s at that moment that the seatbelt sign clicks off, and Henrik turns to address the rest of the plane, “You did good today boys, and I’m proud of you all, especially you Kaapo,” he flashes a grin at his young teammate. “But someone out there stopped over 30 shots, and he deserves a reward I think.”

There are a few cheers, after the Caps game and Mika’s five goals, they’d seen Shesty’s version of a reward.

“Of course,” Henrik continues, “Igoryok is a little different from the rest of you, so his reward will work a little differently.”

“Are we allowed to watch?” Foxy asks with a grin.

Henrik shrugs, “If I wanted it to be private I could do it at home.” He sits back down in his seat, “Pants off,” he tugs softly on Igor’s hair.

Igor stands, and shimmies out of his dress pants, he’d removed his jacket when he got onto the plane, so he’s stood there in just his dress shirt and underwear.

“These too,” Henke smirks, tapping his tight black underwear.

Igor flushes further, but he’s nothing if not obedient, sliding the briefs over his hips and folding them neatly on his seat, he’s already halfway hard, just from the anticipation, just from knowing what’s coming.

“Buttercup,” Henrik turns to Marc, his smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You good to start him off?”

Henrik had discussed it with him before they’d got on the plane, Marc knows what he’s planning. “Come here, Princess.” He’s sat on the other side of Henrik, and reaches out his hand to tug Igor over.

Henrik moves into Igor’s now vacated seat, to give Marc more room to work, watching over the pair of them with a fond eye. He wishes briefly that there was a way he could film it securely and send it to Mats, but he knows the risk is too great for all of them.

Igor lets Marc bend him over, so he’s lying face down across his lap, stroking softly up his spine. “Ten from me yeah Henke?” He asks with a cheeky grin.

“Ten.” Henrik confirms.

“Count them for me yeah Princess?”

Igor’s nodding his assent when the first blow lands. It’s gentler than he’s used to from Henrik, and gentler than he wants, but the fact that Henrik’s there watching, means it’s just as arousing as usual.

By the time Marc’s spanked him ten times, Igor is fully hard, he’s still aware of his surroundings, the teammates peering between the seats to get a look at him, the stinging of his buttocks which he’s sure are at the very least pink.

“Say thank you to Marc for me,” Henrik orders, and Igor pulls himself up to standing, pressing a soft kiss to Marc’s lips, muttering his thanks.

“Good game Princess,” Marc whispers back, “You did so well.”

Igor glows a little with the praise as he turns back to Henrik, however when he takes half a step towards him, the older man gives a little shake of his head.

“Quinny,” Henrik calls over to their coach, “You still good for this?”

David hadn’t been looking at them, working on notes, folders spread out in front of him, but as soon as Henrik says his name, he’s moving them to the empty seat beside him. “Absolutely,” he turns to grin at Henrik, “Come here Shesty.”

Igor falters for a moment, turning to Henrik in panic - he’d come to terms with the idea of Henrik letting their teammates spank him, but their coach hadn’t been someone he’d considered. Still, he trusts Henrik implicitly, so he turns and walks towards Quinn, glad that his shirt is long enough to hide his now straining erection, feeling the flush going up the back of his neck.

“Come here,” Quinny reaches up to cup the back of his neck, gently bending him over until he’s bent over his lap.

Igor tries hard not to whimper, he’s more humiliated than anything else at this point but the shame is burning like hot fire up his spine.

“You’re getting ten from me too, ok?” David tells him, hand stroking across his stinging ass, “You going to count them?”

Igor nods, he’s getting better at counting in English, and he forces himself to relax, waiting for the first blow. It’s harder than any of the ones Marc had given him and he relaxes instantly further into it. The hits from Coach Quinn are more in line with what he’s used to from Henrik. They’re hard enough that he feels himself going limp and boneless in his Coach’s arms. The tenth blow comes too soon, and he finds himself reluctantly getting to his feet, David helping him where his legs are starting to feel weak.

“Thank you coach,” he grins, utterly unprompted, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Quinny’s cheek.

“My pleasure,” Quinn grins at him, stroking the back of his leg softly, thumb caressing the juncture between his thigh and ass where his skin is most sore, “You played a good game.”

Igor contemplates briefly getting to his knees then and there, and offering to suck his coach’s cock, but he also knows that he is not in charge of his own actions, so he looks back over his shoulder towards Henrik.

“Well done Princess,” Henrik’s smiling softly at him, “Come back here please.”

Igor goes to him, he’s drawn to him like some kind of magnetic force, and he feels himself settle as he walks towards him.

“Over my lap Princess,” he instructs softly, one hand tight around Igor’s wrist, pulling him into the correct position. “It’s eleven, and you’ll thank me for them, yes?”

Igor nods, “Yes Papa,” he says softly, from where he’s lying across his lap, he can feel Henrik’s own arousal, and it reminds him of how good he’s being.

The first slap is brutal, and it comes as a relief. The familiarity of Henrik’s palm against his already sore skin, the pause while he waits to choke out “One, thank you Papa.” Even Henrik’s heady scent is familiar.

By the time he breathes out the words “Eleven, thank you papa,” there’s nothing in his head but Henrik, and he gratefully sinks to his knees at Henrik’s feet, nuzzling up against his thigh.

“Do you want to suck my cock Princess?” Henrik asks softly, his hand carding through Igor’s hair, “It’s your choice Princess, you’ve been so good, that I’ll allow you one orgasm – you get to choose if it’s mine or yours.”

Marc chuckles softly beside him, sinking into his seat, hand palming his own erection, “I’d forgotten what a bastard you can be Henke,” he mutters fondly.

“Yours Papa,” Igor whispers, mouthing at the seam on the inside of Henrik’s thigh, “I want suck Papa.” His grasp on English is even worse than usual.

Henrik relents, and eases down the zipper of his fly, pulling his cock out over the top of his briefs and guiding it towards Igor’s mouth. He lets out a low groan as he forces the head of it past Igor’s tight wet lips. For a few minutes there’s nothing but the slick sound of his cock in Igor’s mouth and the soft moans he allows past his own lips.

“Fuck,” Marc breathes softly, “I’ve never seen you get head without giving criticisms.”

Henrik lets out a low chuckle, stroking the back of Igor’s head fondly, “Igoryok has learnt fast, learnt well.”

Igor smiles around his cock at the praise, and redoubles his efforts, sucking him tightly just the way he knows Henrik likes it, forcing Henrik’s cock as far back as he can without losing the suction.

It doesn’t take long until Henke decides to take control, one hand on either side of Igor’s head, thrusting up into his mouth, his pace fast and brutal, and it’s only a few more strokes until he’s spilling into Igor’s mouth. He takes a few moments to breathe before slipping his cock out of Igor’s mouth, noticing that the younger man hasn’t swallowed, just letting the come pool in his mouth. Henrik sticks a couple of lazy fingers between his lips, watching the come drip out of the corner of Igor’s mouth. “Slut,” he whispers fondly.

Igor blinks up at him hopefully, his eyes flickering sideways to Marc for just half a second.

Henke contemplates it for a minute, the thought of Igor kissing Marc, his come spilling between the two of them, getting caught in Marc’s beard. It’s enough to make his cock twitch, but he’d rather deny Igor the pleasure. “Swallow it Princess.”

Igor pouts, but does as he’s told, swallowing his mouthful of Henke’s come, before opening his mouth to show that he’s done as he’d been told.

“Good girl,” Henrik mutters fondly, ruffling his hair again. He hands him his briefs and pants, “Get dressed again for me Princess.” He can hear the mutters of confusion from his teammates, that he’s actually going to make Igor go without an orgasm after that, but they don’t understand their relationship, don’t understand that this is what Igor needs right now.

Igor pulls his clothes on, tucking himself, still painfully hard, back inside his briefs, before settling into the seat between Marc and Henrik, leaning against Henke’s arm.

“I think it will be Sasha tomorrow,” Henrik says softly, “But you will win the next one for me yes?”

Igor snuggles into him, burying his face in Henke’s neck, “You have the next one, I warm your bench.”

Henrik sighs softly, Igor’s always far more optimistic about David’s likelihood of putting him in the net than he is. He presses a soft kiss to the top of Igor’s head, “Try and get some rest now ok Princess?”

Igor just smiles faintly, “Yes Papa.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come visit me on tumblr [@princesstillyenna](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princesstillyenna)  
> Ask me questions, unless that question is "How are these boys going to cope without Henke or Marc next year" because my answer varies wildly between "I DON'T KNOWWWWWWW" and "Hmmm, maybe Quinny's just gonna have to up his game ;)"


End file.
